


Unknown To Us

by FuckinNameChoise



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuckinNameChoise/pseuds/FuckinNameChoise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slave all her life, Belle wants nothing to do with men, especially Lord Raoul Gold. But when she is accused of murder, she has no choice except to put her faith in him…a man who questions everything she ever thought about herself, including her innocence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on Paula Quinn's Lord of Temptation. I've used some quotes from the book, so all rights go to her.

 

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Of course I’m sure” Belle said while she secured the knot in the rope. “Now, Ruby, I need you to remember that as soon as all of Lord Gaspar’s guests retire to their rooms, we will make our escape. “  She hoped that the rope would hold their weight when they finally made their way down off the tower and towards their freedom.  She had made the knots exactly as the book said she should; they had to work, they just had to! She couldn’t stay here anymore, and they had to leave Hereford. She could tolerate Lord Gaspar because he rarely caused trouble, but his brother Killian? That was a whole other story. He rarely laid a finger on them, but it wasn’t because of a lack of interest. At least, in that Gaspar wasn’t a complete imbecile and protected them. However, Killian always found ways to make their lives miserable, especially hers.  If she so much consumed a crumb of bread more than servants were allowed, he was sure to be there to accuse her. According to him, if anything was awry in the castle, it was her fault and he took an immense and unbelievable delight in punishing her.

“Shouldn’t we retire a bit earlier?” Ruby said as she collected the things she considered she  _couldn’t_ leave behind. “I mean, what if he wakes up and comes to look for us while we’re climbing down the tower?”

Ruby’s moves faltered and worry began to grow inside of her. The thought of flinging herself out the window made her shiver, but it was the fear of being discovered that truly made Ruby tremble.  Her face must have shown her troubles, because Belle was quick to reassure her.

“He will not look for us,” Belle said as she took Ruby’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “This night is the night we’ve been waiting for since we decided to run away, Ruby! Both brothers will surely be drunk as hell by the time the feast ends, and even if either of them wakes up, they won’t realize we’re gone until we’re halfway to Carlisle. Now, Ruby, do you have the coins?”

Ruby nodded and moved a loose stone on the wall to show the small pouch behind it.

“How much do we have?”

“8 nobles, 5 half-nobles, and 6 quarter-nobles” Ruby recited from memory, “I don’t know how much that makes.”

“A little more than twelve pence” Belle frowned. She didn’t know if that amount would be enough to get them to France. Well, if it wasn’t, they would just have to do some errands in Carlisle to see if they could earn more. She did a mental list of all the things they would need to see if they had forgotten anything.

“Belle what about the guards, they are sure to see us.”

“You know as well as I do that they fall asleep at their post every night.” Belle crossed the room and hugged Ruby, placing her hand on her shoulders she looked straight into her eyes. “You must stop worrying so much and start thinking about our lives away from here” Belle eyes were shining with excitement, “Freedom is what awaits us after tonight. No more masters, no more rules, no more punishments!”

Ruby couldn’t do anything but smile, for Belle’s speech had lit a fire inside her soul. With a wide grin and a nod, Ruby hugged her friend. It didn't matter that Ruby didn't care about freedom as much as Belle did; there was no way she could ever let her go alone, for she would miss her terribly.

“Now come. We must go to the kitchens and be the faithful servants our Lords believe us to be.” Belle squeezed Ruby’s hand one last time and made her way towards the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Belle cleaned the sweat off of her forehead with her arm and lifted the silver tray, heavy with roasted lamb. She didn’t know that they could be so heavy; her lower back was screaming with pain. She had to stop three times on her way to the great hall to rest, and when she finally made it, she realized that the hardest part of her journey with the lamb was in front of her:

The great hall was full with servants picking and leaving trays of food or jars of wine. There were acrobats and jugglers all around doing tricks as a way of entertainment, and there were five minstrels issuing forth melodies of heroism and love. The five of them were placed strategically in the room so there wasn't a person who couldn't hear them.  She would have to become an acrobat to pass them all without dropping the lamb.

Belle’s struggling didn't go unnoticed by the dark man sitting at Lord Gaspar’s side.

“Move your bloody arse, wench!” Killian decided to make her even more uncomfortable by demanding her to hurry. “Don’t you see our guests are hungry?”

Belle had to use all of her self-control to refrain from snapping something nasty at him. Instead, she gripped the tray she was carrying tighter until her knuckles turned white and set it on the table.

That’s when she felt someone pinch her backside.  She turned around to find the eyes of one Baron Keith Nottingham. He raised his eyebrow daring her to say something, and she had to go back to regaining her self-control. When he realized she wasn't going to respond he snapped at her telling her to bring him more wine.

“Right away, my lord.” She used as much acid as she could muster in that sentence. “A barrel has just been opened in the kitchen.”

The kitchen had always been the best place for gossip to run rampant, so Belle didn't think it too strange to find several of the serving maids gathered around Myrna, the cook, while she seasoned a large serving of pork.

"I heard tell the earl himself rescued twenty of King William's warriors from the dungeons of Edward Thatch shortly after the conquest. The funny thing is that Petunia, the baker’s daughter, says he is shorter than Lord Gaspar and thinner than Lord Killian, but he has this beautiful brown hair and eyes the colour of Lord Gaspar’s finest whiskey."

“I’ve heard that he has quite a character, too. According to Dovin, who once saw him in the field, he was cruel to all of the knights but nice to the commoners. It’s like he has two personalities: one for the nobles, with the exception of the king and a handful of people, and one for the folk.” Said another maid.

"Aye," said Tara while she prepared a tray of poached eggs. "I caught a glimpse of him when I visited my sister in Salisbury last spring. He was taking a stroll along the village and stopped to have a word with some of the farmers, as if he were no better than they. Yet when Baron Nottingham visited Salisbury, my sister told me that Lord Raoul treated him rather beastly. 

“He's as wealthy as they come with lands in Scotland and France!” Myrna said

“My sister's husband said that everyone in Salisbury love their lord. The women above all." Tara threw a wink at Myrna. "There’s no doubt: Lord Raoul Gold is finer than any man sitting in the great hall."

Myrna chuckled. "Makes me wish I was carrying trays instead of cooking tonight." Her pout turned into a grin when she saw Belle. "Have you seen him, Belle?"

Belle shook her head and walked past the huddled women to where Ruby stood cleaning trays “I told you yesterday when you were all going on about his arrival, Myrna, I've no interest in any man who thinks everything can be accomplish with a sword."

"Alas, I fear even the face of an Adonis could not turn our Belle's head." Blidy, a swarthy wench, looked up from the pies she was decorating. "You'll die dry as the leaves of fall if you don't find someone to love soon, girl."

"I have no interested in love, Blindy." Belle pinched a bit of daffodil from one of the jars on the cupboard, and dropped it into Baron Nottingham’s goblet. "I do not waste my thoughts, nor my time on such nonsense."

“Why are you tempering with the wine?” Ruby asked when Belle poured it into the cup with the daffodil.

“Baron Nottingham pinched my backside” Belle smiled and her eyes had a mischievous glint. “Now he will know the price.”

“He won’t have time to digest my pork before it comes out again!” Myrna laughed.

“Well it is definitely better than losing a tooth, like Lady Heart last month when she slapped Belle for stepping on her dress.” Ruby reminded them.

“I thought the pebbles would bring a nice flavour to the honey cakes”

The entire kitchen laughed when Belle raise the baron’s cup as if in toast. Before she left the kitchen, she had to do some improvements to the apple tarts.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When she re-entered the great hall, Belle didn't bother to look around for the man causing such a stir with the other maids, but set her eyes on Nottingham and headed straight for him with a satisfied smile.

“Can I offer you anything else my lord?” she said quietly as she set his goblet on the table. Before waiting for a response, she turned to walk away only to be met with a wall of solid rock.

Strong, long, and elegant fingers closed around her arms to keep her from falling backwards into Nottingham’s lap.

“Pardon me, mademoiselle.”

Her eyes looked up before she could think better of it. She caught a glimpse of dark hair and rich brown eyes before she dutifully dropped her gaze. She couldn’t believe that someone so slim could have stopped her from falling down, but in reality it was his scent that really overwhelmed her. It was a rich blend of leather and a salty tang that filled her nostrils and went straight to her head.  She had to get away from the smell that had awakened things in her that she didn't even know existed. She tried to step around him, but something tugged her back.

“It seems a strand of your hair is caught on my button.” His voice was deep and smooth, and she was sure she heard traces of a very well concealed accent. Her gaze was on his lips and she saw his tongue dart out to wet them.

This must be the famed Earl Gold, she thought while she watched his fingers deftly untangle her hair from a small button on his surcoat. He did it as if he had experience with doing that sort of thing. She was trying to distract herself from the fact that she had never heard a noble speak with such gentleness in their voices, or the sensual inflection of her homeland in Avonlea.

“There. You are free.”

If she had some sense left in her, she wouldn't have risked a second bold glance at him, especially when he was standing so close. She wasn't certain if it was his voice or smell that made her do it.

When she looked up at him, he captured her gaze with his own and held it. She wished she could say that the kitchen wenches had been wrong, but unfortunately she couldn't. The Earl’s eyes were fashioned of beaten whiskey, and thick lashes made them appear even more piercing, more penetrating. His nose was straight and strong with a little bump, his jaw sharp and his lips seemed as if they had been carved for pagan pleasures. He reminded her of a wolf whose magnificence made one forget the danger of getting too close. His eyes had the same captivating skill that attracted their prey seconds before they are ensnared. Belle stood mesmerized for a moment before the Earl smiled at her, flashing a frivolous dimple and tilting her world on its axis.

“Thank you, my lord.” She managed a light curtsey and hurried away.

Lord Raoul Gold watched her departure. His gaze travelling the length of her curls down to the alluring swell of her backside.

“God in heaves. Did you see that Victor?” He said to the man standing at his left.

“See what, my lord?”

“That creature,” Raoul turned again, his eyes searching the room for the servant girl. “That lovely face and those glorious blue eyes. I need her name. Please, get it for me”

Victor shook his head with a sigh. “One of these days you’re going to find yourself father to a dozen sons you didn't know you had.”

Raoul smiled turned triumphant when he finally found her weaving her way out of the hall. “If I’m lucky, thirteen before I leave this castle.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay... Please leave me your thoughts!

She observed him watching the room.  The Earl appeared to be looking for someone, and sheer vanity let her think that he was gazing the room to find her. He had lain with her once, and now he needed more, she was sure of that. _Well-_ Zelina thought- _let’s give him what he wants._ Puffing out her chest, which only served to make her resemble a peacock, she walked towards him.

“Looking for me, mon cher?” she asked him with a seductive smile. The Earl seemed startled when he heard her voice, like pull out of the deepest of thoughts, which only made Zelina’s smile broaden. “Well, you don’t have to search any longer: I am here.”

“Mademoiselle?” She had forgotten what his voice could do to her.  His voice… the sound of black velvet and steel made her blood rush to her lower region in an instant, her mind clouded with desire she could barely contain.  He seemed to know the effect it had on her, because he smiled knowingly, and his eyes filled with the arrogance of a man fully aware of his sexual power. She cursed herself for her weakness for this man; she had come here to seduce not to be seduced.

“I believe it is time we pick up where we left off last time.”

“Pardon me?”

“Oh now, Raoul, don’t play coy with me” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, “I know you remember that night very well, _lover.”_

“I seem to recall something, but I don’t know why you seem to think that it will happen again.” Raoul lifted his goblet and smirked, “And I don’t think one tryst gives claims to us being lovers, dearie.”

Zelina saw red.  How dare he refuse her!  She, who could have any man in this room if she so wished! But then, the earl of Norwich was not like any man. She had to control herself; she couldn’t let him see how enraged his refusal had made her. Plastering a fake smile on her face, she caressed his cheek. She loved the feeling of his barely there beard on her fingertips.

“My dear earl, I’m sure you don’t mean that.” He stood up and Zelina smiled with satisfaction. She had finally got him. “Let’s turn our one night into two.”

“Maybe another time, dearie.”

And with that, Raoul left her there standing next to his chair, alone.

Zelina had the sudden urge of throw something breakable and to see it shatter. She was the daughter of Count Ozmont! He should consider himself lucky that she had given him her attentions, her body! In truth, he had given her a night she would never forget, but still, that did not give him the right to decide when he wanted to bed her and when did he not. She felt thoroughly humiliated, and yet she still ached to fell his strong arms around her once again, to feel his body pressed against hers.  She yearned for that kiss she never got last time, to feel his lips on hers.

At the other side of the room, Raoul saw Victor talking with a servant. Raoul smiled to himself. Victor always complained about the so call missions he gave him, but at the end of the day, he always succeeded in procuring whatever it was that Raoul asked of him.

He was about to join his friend when he felt someone’s gaze upon him. He turned around only to find Lord Gaston’s little brother, Killian, looking at him with a glare so intense that it could have made a lesser man cower. However, Raoul merely raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, daring the other man to say something. After a while, Killian seemed to give up in whatever it was he was doing. Raoul chuckled and walked towards Victor only to find him gone.

“Her name is Belle.”

Raoul twirled around with a force and found Victor standing there with what one would assume was an innocent face, if it weren’t for the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’ve told you a thousand times not to sneak upon me!” The lord of Salisbury growled.

“And I keep forgetting. “ Victor smirked, but seeing that Raoul was about to tell him something he probably didn’t want to hear, he quickly informed him of his discoveries. “The serving wench you were so enamored with earlier is named Belle, Belle de Reviers.”

“Belle.” The name left Raoul lips in a small gentle whisper, then her surname caught up to him. “She’s Norman?”

“So it would seem.”

“How did a Saxon Lord come to possess a Norman servant?”

“I do not know my Lord.”

Raoul dismissed Victor after that, telling him to go enjoy what was left of the night.  Returning to his now Zelina-free seat, Raoul scanned the room looking for Belle and found her pouring wine into the cups of the guests. He studied the face that had made his breath falter in his throat. Her skin is pale and flawless, her eyes are blue, a beautiful shade of blue, and deliciously full lips with her chestnut curled hair completing the beautiful combination. He loved the way she didn’t cower under the scrutiny of the men she was serving, how she didn’t seem affected by the glares the noble ladies, full of a jewelry and perfume, sent her. Belle didn’t need any of that: she was real and needed no adornment to punctuate her beauty. It seemed that Lord Killian thought the same, if the hunger in his eyes when looking at her was anything to go by.

After a while, Belle finally reached where he, and now Victor, were sitting.  She moved as if to serve him more wine, but he stopped her by placing his hand on top of his goblet. She glanced at him beneath a veil of long, tawny lashes, silently asking what was the matter.

“Is that wine safe to drink?”

She blinked and looked directly at him; tiny hints of panic made her skin pale for a moment before her cheeks blushed. For the second time that evening, the extraordinary beauty of her huge, blue eyes arrested Raoul.

“My lord?” Her voice was full with uncertainty.

“I am merely asking because I saw Baron Nottingham looking particularly ill after he partook.”

Belle clutched the pitcher of wine to her chest. How was it possible that he suspected what she'd done? "If the Baron is ill, I'm sure it has naught to do with me, nor the wine."

He knew she was lying.  He had seen her give Baron Laundry an already filled cup. Why had she decided to do that instead of filling it from the pitcher she was now holding? His years under the service of the King had taught him how easy it was to dispose of an enemy with nothing more than tainted wine. He dreaded the idea that this lovely woman might be working in cahoots with someone to poison the Norman guests attending Lord Gaspar’s feast. It would be a real pity if he had to arrest her and bring her before William.

“I believe I’ve had enough wine for one evening,” He said with a smile. “I prefer to keep my wits about me.” _And the contents of my stomach where they belong,_ he thought to himself.

He was about to ask her to go for a walk with him when her name was roared out by Lord Gaston’s bumming voice, causing her to drop the pitcher in fright. Red wine splattered across the floor and onto Raoul's boots as well as the hem of Belle's skirts. Every guest turned to look at them, the hall becoming silence.

“Must all my guests thirst and wait all night for their wine while you gape at Lord Gold?" Gaston clenched his teeth and met Raoul's gaze from across the hall. "Please accept my apologies. She never did learn her place and is a constant source of distress in my otherwise content life. See? She stares at me even now."

When he rose to his feet and started walking towards her, Belle could only watch him. She knew she should lower her gaze, but something inside of her didn’t let her. Paralyzed by fear and hatred, she stared at him, unblinking, while he stormed around one table and then another in order to reach her.

“But, worry not my lord, I will teach her some manners.” He was almost on top of her now, and the promise of violence was perfectly clear in his eyes and voice. She managed to break free from whatever it was that had made her unable to move, and tried to move backwards and create more distance between herself and Lord Gaston. However, Belle was met with something solid at her back, and there was naught she could do to prevent it now. Her eyes scanned the faces staring back at her, and some of the servants looked at her with pity, knowing well what was about to happen. Lord Killian was wearing a rueful smile and she was aware that he wished it were his hand about to strike her. Belle was sorry she hadn't sneezed on his supper while she carried it in, and so she raised her chin in defiance of the shame that was to come.

"You will lower your head, bitch, even if I had to make you!" Gaston bellowed as he lifted his hand to strike her. Belle closed her eyes in fear, waiting for the blow, only to find that it never came. She opened her eyes to see her angry lord's wrist shackled within larger and more elegant fingers directly in front of her face. The growl she heard above her head was so menacing and deadly that she would have fled if her master wasn't blocking her path.

"Heed my warning, _dearie_. You will lower your voice and your hand if you don’t want to be the one struck down. “

Gaston looked from Raoul to Belle, and the threat of retribution in his hard gaze made Belle look away.

"Touch her," Raoul's voice was as lethal as his words, "and I vow I will spill your blood right where you stand."

Lord Gaston nodded and did not even glance at Belle when Raoul released him, as he opted to rub his wrist instead and then returned Raoul's murderous glare. For an instant, his eyes glittered with revenge, which then followed with a relaxed, wide grin.  The tension in the room seemed to dissipate only to appear again when Gaston picked up a cup of wine.

"Let us raise our cups in the honour of the King’s royal commander." He lifted his cup to Raoul. "And dashing protector of"—he glanced at Belle over the rim—"the fairer sex. Let us hope it never gets him killed."

"And that the man who attempts it," Raoul added, his cool, brown gaze untouched by the challenging smile he offered Gaspar Gaston, "has enough strength and skill to at least cause me to break a sweat before he fails."

The amount of sheer confidence in his voice led Belle to believe he probably had never lost a battle in his life. She couldn’t dwell on that thought longer, because she felt him shift slightly and her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she realized that her back was still plastered against his chest. Without looking back at the man who had just saved her, she lurched away from him and crossed the hall to the next table to pick up a new pitcher and to continue her duties.

Belle decided to keep herself busy with whatever task she could find that would keep her away from the table Lord Gold was sitting at. He had already deduced that she had slipped something into Baron Nottingham’s drink, but she didn’t know why he hadn’t gone to inform Lord Gaston of his discovery. He had opted to protect her from her master’s anger, even though he suspected her of a heinous deed. She couldn’t fathom why he would do such a thing, and she could only be sure of one thing: he was up to something. The few stolen glances she had cast his way confirmed the careful surveillance he kept on everyone while sipping wine he had accepted from another servant. She had been angry when she had saw that, and was yet another excuse for why she should stay away from him.

Even thought Belle didn’t want to admit it, he tempted her to look at him. Even now, as she filled another countless cup with wine, she wanted to sneak a glance. He was laughing at something the man that seemed to be glued to his side had said. The sound was rich and throaty, and completely male. Foolish twits, Belle mumbled to herself. She had better things to think about than Lord Raoul Gold, like living out the rest of her days in freedom with Ruby. Mayhap they would make it to France, but even if they didn’t, they would find a place where both of them could be free. She would never stop searching, just as her father had never stopped. She hoped Maurice de Reviers had found his longed-for freedom.

 She looked up while she was still thinking of her father, sensing Raoul's compelling brown eyes on her. To her surprise and dismay, he was walking toward her. What did he want? She had a sinking feeling he wanted to question her further about Baron Nottingham, who had fled the hall looking particularly green. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as he got nearer. He was the epitome of elegant masculinity in a closely tailored, unbuttoned black surcoat that reached just below his knees. Beneath, he wore a white shirt shot through with gold thread with a broadsword sheathed in thick leather dangled from his hip under his surcoat. Black leather pants and soft leather boots encased his legs, and for a moment, Belle wished for the surcoat to be shorter so she could see how those leather clad legs looked from behind.

Realizing where her thoughts had led her she tried to make a hasty retreat. She made for the doors and was out of the great hall in an instant; she was about to round the corner that would lead her to the kitchens when she heard his voice behind her, telling her to wait.

"Forgive me, my lady," he said in a low voice when he finally caught up to her, "but I am compelled to find out what it is about filling a cup of wine that caused such a wistful look to come over you."

Belle didn’t understand what he was talking about, and her confusion must have showed on her face because he calmly stated:

“Mere moments ago, before you left the hall in such a hurry, you seemed to be remembering something. I was merely asking what it was.”

He was a sorcerer who could read her thoughts, she deduced. Belle tried to step around him before he could find out anything about her, but he blocked her path and tilted his head to capture her gaze. "You have nothing to fear from me."

Belle almost laughed. The man seemed to know everything, and then some! She had plenty to fear.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked her.

Something in his gaze compelled her to tell the truth. Well, at least some part of it.

"My father," she replied, not daring to tell him that thinking about running free through some Highland field of lavender heather had more likely produced the longing look he claimed to see on her.

"You miss him then," Raoul said, understanding instantly.

"God’s no!” she said before she remembered who it was she was speaking to. “I mean, no my lord, I did not.”

The small spark of happiness that had surged within him when she let out her little outburst disappeared by the matter-of-fact coolness in her voice when she corrected herself. Now, he was more than curious about how she came to serve Bryce Gaston. He pressed her further. "Did he sell you into servitude?"  If that were the case, Raoul would make sure to find the man and make him pay. What kind of monster could sell his own daughter?

"I was born a slave, my lord," She wished he would get on with his questions about Nottingham. Do whatever he was planning to do and to stop making her worry so.

"Where did you come from before you came to be here?"

She finally lifted her gaze to probe his eyes, and the slight quirk of her brow almost made him smile.

Belle realized that he was smarter than she had first accredited him, but she could see trough his rouse.  He wanted the names of her former masters so that he could question them about the misfortunes she may have caused while under their service. Well, he could get all the names he wanted…just not the true ones. "I don’t know why would you wish to know... my lord. But, I can’t refuse a command, can I? My first master, when I arrived in England, was Lord Benjen... Berry.”

Raoul had to use all he had to stop himself from laughing at the name she had come up with. He didn’t know why she would lie to him once again. By all rights he should be suspicious of her, but he couldn’t.  Not when she looked so similar to a lost lamb while she tried to keep up with him. "I've never heard of this Lord Benjen Berry. Tell me, what region does he manage under the name of our king?

"Umm..." She started biting her lip; it was a nervous gesture she had possessed since she was a child. She couldn’t come up with a region that wasn’t one of the three she had been in since her arrival to this country, seven years ago.

Raoul couldn’t contain his laughter any longer and let out a small chuckle. "Why don’t you just say whatever wanders into your head, Belle. I think you could tell me this Lord Benjen holds court on top of a tree and I would only have to look into your eyes to believe you."

Belle studied him carefully, trying to decide if he had just given her a compliment or if he was calling her a liar. Seeing as she was a servant and he a noble, she guessed it was probably the latter.  This made her extremely angry. How dare he call her a liar? "If you are done interrogating me, I must get on with my duties."

He seemed affronted by her response. _Good,_ she thought. “I was merely trying to strike up a conversation with you.”

"Why would you want to do that?" She questioned in disbelief.

"Ah?" Raoul was certain his ears had just betrayed him. "Why would I want to talk with you?"

"Yes."

"I..." He stopped and scowled at her. "Well, I..." Well, he’ll be dammed.  Never before had he been asked to explain why he wanted to speak to a lady. He had to close his mouth least she thought he was trying to catch flies with it. However, she seemed to take his silence as the end of the conversation or whatever she believed it was.

"Wait." He managed to catch her arm before she could escape him once again. He wondered if mayhap he had had more to drink than he had first believed, for it was the only explanation he could come up with that would explain why he was following her around like a puppy begging to be scratched. He had never been the begging type, and he did not want to begin now. His scowl deepened, but his mouth opened anyway. "Walk with me outside later when your work is done."

Belle shook her head and said simply, "No."

"I promise to remain silent and let you ask me all sort of question you may have about me."

She raised her eyes to his, a seriousness in them he had never seen before. "There is nothing I want to know about you."

Raoul stood alone for a few moments, watching her walk away from him for what it seemed like the hundredth time. Her words should have angered him, for he was not being accustomed to anyone speaking like that to him!  Least of all a woman, but he smiled instead. He was a warrior, always up for the challenge of a worthy opponent, and she seemed like a warrior as well. Indeed, the thought of luring her to his bed was quite refreshing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probable see i am in dire need of a beta. So if someone knows of someone who could help me, please...

**Author's Note:**

> Well I've finally done it and started working on this fic again. I hope you like it. Please tell me your thoughts.


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